But when I arrived at the so-called encampment, it was deserted.
Huh? Where did the demons go?
I scanned the area. There were clear signs of a recent camp, but it had been abandoned in a hurry.
Then I remembered something. On my way here, as dusk settled over the forest, I had seen a faint orange glow on the horizon.
Following the tracks leading away from the camp, I emerged from the forest and onto a wide plain. In the distance, I saw it. A town, its gates thrown open, black smoke billowing into the twilight sky.
It was a town under siege.
And my targets, it seemed, were right in the middle of it.
….
As I approached, my energy scanners confirmed my suspicions. The town was flooded with the distinct mana signatures of demons.
My bio-scanner picked up at least ten of them still inside. There were no signs of any human survivors. The slaughter was already complete.
I crossed the lowered drawbridge and walked into the inferno.
The first thing I saw were the bodies.
Dozens of them, scattered across the cobblestones. Judging by their armor, they were the town guard.
They had all died here, at the gate. Some were decapitated. Some were bisected. Some were desiccated husks, their life force drained.
Others had exploded from within, their insides painted on the walls.
It was a scene from hell.
I walked through the shattered streets, past burning buildings and collapsed homes. In this era, humans without magic were little more than fodder for demons.
They had fought with steel against an enemy that wielded the fundamental forces of the universe. The outcome was inevitable.
I recorded it all, my expressionless face a stark contrast to the carnage around me.
"Oh? Looks like we missed one."
The voice came from behind me. I turned.
Perched atop a relatively intact roof was a massive, armored demon with a pair of huge horns curling from its head.
A great axe, twice my height, was slung over its shoulder. In its other hand, it held the half-eaten corpse of a human, like a piece of jerky.
"Well, let's get this over with," the demon said, its voice flat and bored. It tossed the corpse aside, gripped its axe with both hands, and fixed its cold eyes on me.
"Would you mind standing still?"
The demon never once glanced at my face, never considered the expression of the human girl before it. In its eyes, I was nothing. A creature with no mana, no warrior's physique.
A completely harmless, insignificant human.
The hulking demon raised its great axe. It moved with the same casual, overwhelming speed it had used on the other humans. To the demon, this was a routine execution.
It closed the distance in an instant, its axe arcing down. Seeing the human girl stand there, completely frozen, a flicker of satisfaction passed through its mind. One clean strike, and she would be cleaved in two.
….
In the Town Square:-
"Has Zera returned yet?"
A handsome, red-haired demon in an ornate, noble's uniform stood by the central fountain. His hair was tied back in a long ponytail, and a pair of sharp, black horns denoted his true nature. He was a predator in fine clothing.
He addressed the butler-like demon standing beside him.
"No, Lord Drakul," the butler replied. "Warrior Zera has not yet returned."
Several other armored demons, clearly guards, stood nearby. These were the orchestrators of the town's destruction.
"Never mind him," Drakul said with a dismissive wave. "He's probably indulging his appetite, looking for a snack."
In demon society, strength was everything. The stronger a demon's mana, the higher their status. Weaker demons often pledged themselves to the powerful in exchange for protection.
"Has the town been... cleansed?" Drakul asked.
"Yes, my lord. Every last one," a woman in a dark cloak replied. This was Leslie, a mage specializing in concealment magic, an invisible assassin.
It was she who had silently eliminated the guards on the walls and lowered the drawbridge. "I made sure of it. A knife to the heart of every corpse, just to be certain."
"Good. Then our work here is done. Signal Zera to return."
"At once."
Demons, being creatures devoid of empathy, cared little for the lives of others. But they were possessive. Zera was Drakul's servant, and therefore, his property. It was only natural that he keep track of his belongings.
But just as the order was given, a sound from the edge of town drew the attention of every demon in the square.
CRASH!
Drakul turned his head in the direction of the noise.
"That's Zera's energy signature," he said, a frown creasing his handsome face. "He's fighting someone."
He turned his cold gaze on Leslie. "Are you certain you checked everywhere?"
The air grew heavy. The other demons tensed. Leslie broke into a cold sweat. Demons were selfish, and a powerful demon's displeasure could be fatal.
"My lord, I swear it," she stammered. "I checked the entire town. Whoever he's fighting must have just entered from outside."
Drakul considered her words for a moment, then relented. "Very well. Let's go and see who has the audacity to challenge my servant."
"As you command."
His retainers bowed and departed, each using their own method of swift travel. Drakul, however, began to walk, his pace unhurried.
He didn't particularly care who Zera was fighting. His only goal had been to kill everyone in this town. Anyone new was simply an oversight to be corrected.
As he walked, crimson streams of blood began to seep from the corpses lining the streets, flowing through the air to converge in a massive sphere above his head.
Blood Magic.
The sphere grew until it was larger than Drakul himself, then it descended, washing over him.
But the blood did not splatter. Instead, it clung to Drakul's body, molding to his form. It hardened, solidified, and became a suit of crimson armor.
The elegant, handsome nobleman vanished, and in his place stood a knight of blood, radiating an aura of pure malice.
His entire body was encased in the gory plate. In one hand, he held a tower shield forged from congealed blood; in the other, a greatsword of the same sanguine material.
And with slow, deliberate steps, the Blood Knight began to walk toward the sound of battle.
….
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